In the middle of a crisis in faith in regard to writing, I was
offered an article from a local magazine I contribute to whenever they ask. The topic of this piece was signature seafood
dishes from area restaurants. I never
say no, even when the deadline is tight, and this one was. I still said yes a few days later when the
editor emailed to tell me she had to move things up a week. Woo wee. Time to get cracking.
The thing is, I’ve been in pondering mode for so long now
with regard to the current novel in progress, writing the article felt like
someone had opened a door to my brain and allowed the clean scent of spring to
waft through. Suddenly, the writer in me
felt fresh and alive again. A
thousand-words I didn’t have to agonize over?
Now, that’s what I’m talkin’ about.
The topic involved eight restaurants, three that were new to me. What can I say? To write knowledgeably, of
course I had to sample…
So, it was research when I spent Friday night with my
husband in a street-front grille, slurping Nova Scotia oysters and enjoying a yummy
fried-oyster slider. Saturday, we worked in the
yard all day. Then, since a nursery was offering a deal on a product we needed,
and it happened to be located close to one of the other eateries I had yet
to experience, after we finished our errand, we stopped in. More research meant
a few more oysters for me and a deconstructed scallop and bacon appetizer we
split that hands down, featured the best scallops I have ever eaten.
Monday was a holiday in Massachusetts, and I still had one
restaurant to investigate. Discovering
my dilemma, my husband's 83-year-old mother said, "Let’s go out to lunch." Folks, lets just say I’m a nothing but a dutiful daughter-in-law.
Licking my lips in memory, I finished up the article with
days to spare. The only bad news? No
expense budget came with this gig. Such
is a poor writer’s life. Tasty as it was, all that “research” sure munched into my profit.
